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Fuck! I rub my face with my palms and shoot Masse a hostile glance, and he returns it just as harshly.
“See what you've done, Sami? You make girls run away,” he sneers sarcastically, and I take a determined step forward, ready to smash that annoying face of his, but I change my mind at the last moment.
“Stay away from her!” I point my finger at him threateningly.
“And what if I don't want to?” he arrogantly responds, tilting his head to the side, as he always does when his nauseating wall of superiority rises, putting him on top.
“Then fuck off!” I turn away and swallow the bitter taste that had formed in my mouth.
“You fuck off!” I hear from behind me, and I shove my hands in my pockets, venting my frustration by kicking an empty soda can along the alley.
When did you grow up so much, Rebecca? When did you stop being that goofy girl with messy hair, getting lost in supermarkets?
It doesn't matter anymore...
I'm sorry, Rebecca, but I'd rather you hate me than be around us.
CHAPTER 11
Five years ago
Samael
After everything that happened yesterday, I am even more unsettled. I toss the book on the table and make my way down to the kitchen, to get some milk from the fridge, hoping it will bring me some peace, perhaps even lull me to sleep, because lately, I haven't been able to sleep well. Plugging my earphones in, I crank up the music, hoping to drown out my own thoughts and evade any potential conversations with whoever crosses my path.
I go around the island in the open-space kitchen and open the fridge.
I got enemies, got a lot of enemies
Got a lot of people tryna drain me of my energy
They tryna take the wave from a nigga
Fuckin' with the kid and pray for your nigga
“Why was your childhood friend here so late at night?” she asks, referring to your childhood friend.
“Why don't you ask your son? It seems he knows more than me,” I reply.
“Because it's you she always dances around like a little butterfly. She's cute, isn't she?'' She turns the tablet that was set up to monitor the backyard of Godwill's house.
“The police might not see it that way. It's against the law to peek into others' yards without their consent,” I try to dismiss the image she tries to show me, but I can't help but glance at it.
Rebecca sweeps the leaves on the terrace, meticulously arranging everything, much like a playful butterfly—so delicate, so perfect, so beautiful. I bet she has read by now or finished her homework. Her long, blond hair is tied up with a scarf in a casual ponytail. The sight of her unruly strands escaping the loosely tied ponytail gives me a tingling sensation in the palms of my hands, giving me the urge to fix it for her. She is wearing my favorite linen jumpsuit, the one I love to see her in every time. The butter-colored fabric suits her well, and the flared edges make my heart skip a beat with every late-summer breeze, revealing glimpses of her fair skin that no one ever sees.
I gulp and can hardly tear my eyes away from the tablet.
“You like her... I knew it,” Anabella taunts, licking her lips with a disgustingly triumphant expression that riles me up even more than her mere presence.
“Seems like you have too much free time on your hands,” I gulp the cold milk after seeing her arrogant face.
“Why doesn't she come around anymore? Is Hanna still upset about that? It was just a childhood thing...”
“Just a childhood thing? You're insane, just like your son!” The words escape my mouth, but I don't raise my voice.
However, if I tighten my grip on the milk glass any further, I'll shatter it between my fingers.
“Is that how you talk to your own mother?”
